Rule Number One
by ShakespeareIsMyMuse
Summary: "Rule number one, if you get somebody shot, you apologize; you don't wait for a special occasion […]"; but do the same rules apply if you're the shooter? Two of Five-0's finest are about to weigh in. …Reader Discretion Advised: Semi-Frequent Swearing…
1. Chapter I: The Call

ShakespeareIsMyMuse

**DISCLAIMER: I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do so solemnly swear that I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of its affiliates, which includes: any familiar story plots, creation of original characters belonging to the show, cast and crew. Rights, property and ownership belong rightfully and wholly to CBS and its Original Creator: Leonard Freeman (1920-1974), also to reboot creators: Peter M. Lenkov, Alex Kurtzman, and Roberto Orci.**

**I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do however claim ownership of any unrecognizable characters and the formation of plot(s) that follows. Any invention or similarity of any character or plot line that is seen here after represented really or fictitiously, alive or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

*Exhales* I hope that about covers everything. *Cracks Neck* Now, on with the story.

**Enjoy.**

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

** The Rules Stand as Thus:**

**Rule Number One:** If you get somebody shot, you **DO NOT** wait for a special occasion, you apologize right on the spot.

**Rule Number Two:** If Steve wanted 'to be the shoot first and ask questions later' type of a guy, it was perfectly fine, the only thing Danny requested was that he'd be consulted, so he knew when to duck.

**Rule Number Three:** A partnership—much like a friendship, a relationship or a marriage—**SHOULD NOT** be like pulling teeth.

**Rule Number Four:** Trust, under any circumstance, is earned; it's not automatically granted just because you think you work for the same cause.

**Rule Number Five:** While you may have the utmost faith in your partner and depend on him for backup (which is fine); two sharp shot men, do not qualify as sufficient force against an militia of semi-automatic toting psychos—you call H.P.D (and on occasion, S.W.A.T) for assistance.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**SUMMARY:** _"Rule number one, if you get somebody shot, you __**apologize**__; __you __**don't**__ wait for a special occasion […]";_ but do the same rules apply if you're the shooter? Two of Five-0's finest are about to weigh in.

…Reader Discretion Advised: Semi-Frequent Swearing…

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Rule Number One**

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Chapter I: The Call**

**THE PALACE AT ALI****ʻ****IŌLANI HALE**

**FIVE-0 HEADQUARTERS**

**1:07 PM**

As he strode down the main hallway, his eyes were immediately flicking back and forth between to the two opposing corner offices that began the second hallway inside the large space; the corners of his mouth turned down when he realized that both were dark and empty.

"Kelly, Kalakaua…Grover!" Governor Sam Denning called out to the three individuals sitting in the break-room.

"Sir?" Chin Ho Kelly asked; pushing his take out tray off to one side and standing up.

"_Where the hell_ are McGarrett and Williams…on a lunch date?"

"Possibly, sir," he responded.

The Governor blinked at the response—surprise covering his face, "Come again?"

"You see, sir, due to our last couple of cases their mar…, uh…," Kono had to stop herself. For a second she forgot that the Governor was their boss and not HPD and CSRU* and the like, who all understood the _'rumor mill'_ and **all **of the inside jokes pertaining to Steve and Danny's relationship. As for their mandated therapy sessions, they were – occasionally, _affectionately_— called marriage counseling.

"…sessions with the Doc…" Lou slipped in for her, to which Kono nodded gratefully.

"…were missed, cancelled, or shuffled around…" she told him.

"…like a bad deck of cards," Lou added—why? He didn't know. Perhaps it was unsettled nerves due to the fact that he knew the Governor wasn't his biggest fan; considering he did fire him from HPD for the whole stolen SWAT uniforms, money transfer, Ian Wright debacle.

As the head of the task force and the second in command, Lou often wondered how long it had taken McGarrett to talk Denning into why it was a good idea for him to be part of Five-0; and just how much of Danny's relentless mouth helped seal the deal. The former New Jersey detective may—at times— be a broken record and a incessant round of _'This is the song that never ends…'_; but he did have that talent where he managed to create this certain edge to his voice that made just about _anything _sound like the world's most genius idea.

Denning quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

"They had a session scheduled for eleven o'clock this morning," Chin said. "They most likely went to lunch afterwards. Is there anything the three of us could help you with, sir?"

Glancing at his watch, Denning noted that it was nearly ten after one. "Hmm, well at least that explains why McGarrett missed our eleven forty five appointment; and also why at noon, Williams didn't show up in his place with an apology about an unavoidable family emergency and having to make a last minute trip to see his Uncle Joe. I trust the man is feeling better?" His tone had done a complete one eighty from rough and gruff to placid and soft-spoken.

Chin and Kono exchanged a quick, subtle—knowing—glance. That the three months Steve had spent running around Japan, Danny—despite knowing very little about where exactly he was and when exactly he was coming back—had spent that same time bending over backwards to keep Denning in the dark. Ensuring that the Task Force ran like a well-oiled machine in keeping the islands and the surrounding waters safe. He also managed to form a _very_ peaceful alliance among HPD, the Coast Guard, HFD*, and the stationed Military personnel across all of the populated Hawaiian Islands to safeguard interagency cooperation with Five-0 –and vice versa—should it ever become necessary. As none were ever too happy to cooperate with the other—each living under the impression that _only they_ knew best— and three out of those five other branches had their reservations about combining forces with one Steve McGarrett due to both known and unknown reputations.

"Yes, sir; he's recently suffered a potential exposure to, uh…something a few months ago, but is feeling one hundred percent now," the Lieutenant assured.

"That's wonderful. Aside from a younger sister, I believe, I know McGarrett doesn't have much family. Of course, I also know that he considers Five-0 to be his family…and whatever the hell type of relationship he and Williams have with one another—which as long as they work it out in counseling and keep their personal life off the clock, I really don't care."

The three members of Five-0 in the room each shared a look with one another; but it was Chin who did the best job at controlling his facial muscles. Kono covered her own smirk behind her hand and a fake cough, while Lou suddenly found the ceiling extremely interesting.

The comical awkwardness of the situation was broken by a ringing cell phone.

"This is Governor Denning," he said into the mouth piece.

Smirk still firmly in place, "Is that _the real_ reason the Governor insists on the two of them going to see that shrink? Because he thinks they _really are a couple_?" Kono whispered to the two men at the table with her.

"I'm not entirely sure," Chin bit back a soft laugh.

"What _I'm entirely sure of_ is that I would have _**loved**_ for the guys to have been _**in**_ the room when he said that. The looks on their faces _**would have been priceless**_," Lou chuckled.

"_Oh, stop_," Kono let out a hushed laughed before playfully whacking Lou on the arm.

"_**He what**__?"_ Denning yelled into the phone in shock.

"_Oh no_, what did Steve do _this_ time?" Chin asked his co-workers—quietly.

"Knowing Steve…it could be _anything_," Lou said.

Then the Governor took in and let out a deep breath; he appeared to calm down the more he listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Well, are they both alright?"

The three Five-0 members exchanged another glance amongst themselves.

"Was anybody else hurt?"

…

"And the shooter?"

…

"Well, thank God for that."

…

"_Yes, __**of course**__ I have complete and total confidence_ _in the shooting expertise of_ _**all**_ of my task force members," Denning said into the phone—sparing a glance at the three Five-0 members in front of him.

…

"Well, they can just blow that out of their asses and I'll be sure to tell them just that."

…

Suddenly, the Governor started laughing at whatever was said on the other side of the phone.

…

"Well, they can do that, too. Alright, thank you for calling me Captain Makani. I appreciate both the concern and the heads up about IA*. I'll make sure we get out in front of this."

"Makani? He's the HPD Captain over at the two one," Chin whispered.

"Why would he be calling the Governor? And what's this about IA?" Lou wondered. "They _**never **_lead to _**anything**_ good."

"I don't know, but I _**can't**__ wait_ to hear what the boss man dragged Danny into this time. He must _**so**_ happy." Kono laughed quietly.

…

"...yes, goodbye." Denning clicked off his phone and sighed, "And to think, I thought that by sending them to therapy I would have avoided calls like this." He sighed again, "But with McGarrett's irritating, overwhelming sense of pride and Williams' short fused, hot temper I'm actually surprised that this is the first call I've gotten; so maybe it's working after all," he said out loud—to himself—before noticing the worried glances from his three awaiting officers.

"Mmhph," Denning mumbled, before turning to face them. "It would appear that Detective Williams has _intentionally_ shot Commander McGarrett. …alright, alright, okay, calm yourselves, the three of you," he said of the looks on their faces and their poised lips ready to rapid fire questions in his direction. "It's not _**that**_ serious;" he told them as he was met with astounded stares. "…there's _**nothing **_to worry about…just a small isolated incident that is over and done with. McGarrett is at Tripler Army Hospital. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go head off Internal Affairs before they want to start sticking their big noses—_in __**my **__Task Force— _where they _**don't belong**_ and decide they want to try and cart _**another**_one of my officers off to jail…_**again**_," Denning told them as he made his way out the door. "Do I employ _**anyone**_ on my Task Force who doesn't have a registered mug shot with _**some**_ branch of global law enforcement?" he asked rhetorically.

They watched the Governor's retreating back for all of five seconds before Lou asked, "Hospital?"

"Hospital," the cousins agreed simultaneously as the three of them booked for the exit.

This was bound to be good.

…

…_To Be Continued…_

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Asterisk Index: **

***CSRU:** Crime Scene Response (Recovery) Unit— A grouping of highly trained forensic specialists charged with utilizing the scientific method in the gathering/examining of evidence/information about an assigned/located (potential) crime. They are tasked with determining the answers to the 'who', 'what', 'when', 'where', 'how' and organizing the details in a presentational manner to make use of in a court of law.

These groups can work alongside or in conjunction (depending on budget and location) with a specific police department, court house or independently; but most are employed by either country, state, or government run facilities assigned to handle the volume of evidence/information from multiple locales.

***HFD:** Honolulu Fire Department – The Fire Department is typically charged with putting out fires, intense life rescue (i.e. massive transport/building accidents) and determining the acts and causations of arson; their duties can extend or limit from there depending on the situation at hand.

Arson experts within the Fire Departments have the potential to work alongside the Arson Investigative Unit or be called as expert witnesses during court cases. Some departments (depending on budget and location) have an Explosives Unit that either handles potential explosives (i.e. various bomb types, fireworks, corrosive chemicals) or works alongside the Bomb Squad. These individuals also have the potential to be called as expert witnesses during court cases.

***IA [IAB]:** Internal Affairs/Internal Affairs Bureau — A division of law enforcement which investigates incidents and plausible suspicions of law-breaking and professional misconduct attributed to officers on the force. IAB tends to have a bad rap among law-enforcement agencies and is sometimes referred to by the unpleasant moniker "_the rat squad"_ by other non IAB personnel.

**Muse's Notes:**

I would like to thank reader 'jlopie' who was the very first one to heavily encourage (and patiently wait for) me to write out the other _"Rules"_ stories after reading _"Rule Number Two"_.

Thank you jlopie.

Plus, she (kindheartedly) understands how stalled I am on writing _"Rule Number Three"_. So much so that she has also decided to change her avatar to a cattle prod in order to _**'motivate'**_ me.

…LOL, no I'm just teasing; that was her own personal choice as an avatar.

But here is what I do know; I know that jlopie and I are both in agreement that _"Rule Number Three"_ better be one hell of a story when I'm finally done writing it.

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

-It is with a light and open heart, along with a great deal of anticipation that you, my reader, enjoy my work, just as with all my writing, it really means a great deal to me.

-Reviews and/or constructive criticism are not required here, but are always welcome.

-Flames are not required nor are they welcome; and while I cannot stop you from posting them, I will warn you, I usually don't take them to heart.

Love, Hugs, and Kisses,

Muse : )


	2. Chapter II: Shoot the Hostage

ShakespeareIsMyMuse

**DISCLAIMER: I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do so solemnly swear that I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of its affiliates, which includes: any familiar story plots, creation of original characters belonging to the show, cast and crew. Rights, property and ownership belong rightfully and wholly to CBS and its Original Creator: Leonard Freeman (1920-1974), also to reboot creators: Peter M. Lenkov, Alex Kurtzman, and Roberto Orci.**

**I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do however claim ownership of any unrecognizable characters and the formation of plot(s) that follows. Any invention or similarity of any character or plot line that is seen here after represented really or fictitiously, alive or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

*Exhales* I hope that about covers everything. *Cracks Neck* Now, on with the story.

**Enjoy.**

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Chapter II: Shoot the Hostage**

**DOWNTOWN**

**HONALULU SHOPPING CENTER**

**12:34 PM**

How it happened, Danny still wasn't sure, but the only thing he did seem to know for sure is that it _**was**_ happening. The out of nowhere, spur of the moment crime—with its latest, out of nowhere bad guy— had landed them smack dab in the middle of a quote unquote _'hostage situation'_; which, for the most part, was probably the only relatively piece of normal happening in this little scenario.

However, it was the way the roles of said hostage situation had been divvied up in the present moment that had the blonde detective so damn confused. After all, how in the hell do you trap a fully trained and experienced Navy SEAL in some version of a hammerlock _**and**_ render him completely useless without the aid of any type of physical injury or bullet wound or — and this is only being added in, because the situation could have actually gone that much worse— threat of a bomb with or without a dead man switch?

Danny had no _fucking_ clue and now was not exactly the right time to stop and reevaluate such nonsense; lives hung in the balance, well—more appropriately at the current moment— a single life.

Yes, despite the fact that this situation was taking place in broad daylight, right out in the middle of a very crowded shopping center in downtown Honolulu where hundreds—if not thousands— of unsuspecting locals and tourists could have easily been grabbed for use as a human shield, it was somehow Steve McGarrett that stood —restrained— center stage in this wicked little version of monkey in the middle.

Though the patrons had had the common sense to 'get out of the line of fire'— so to speak; the majority still watched the scene intently—from what they evidently felt was a safe enough distance, despite the fact that many obviously didn't have a clue as to the unimaginable, unpredictable trajectory a single stray bullet could really travel—unfold before them.

Of the majority, probably about one third were flooding HPD's command center with frantic calls about a three person hostage situation two of which had weapons drawn. The second third most likely had their cell phones out, recording the unexpected event to either prove to friends and family that it really had happened or upload it to YouTube later under some exuberant, attention snaring title to boost views and subscriptions to their accounts. While the remaining third watched and were rendered just about as useful as McGarrett was in the present moment.

Danny's mouthed moved on autopilot. It was a memorized, rehearsed speech that was drilled into every single police officer at the Academy for just such situations. It was different from the speeches and tactics used by hostage negotiators.

The negotiators were—for lack of a better term—a tad luckier when it came to their work. _**Not **_to audaciously claim that hostage negotiations are easy; they are anything but— for all parties involved. However, while time did work against them, they—occasionally— had a little bit more of it to spare.

The majority of hostage takers usually have some sort of plan worked out from the beginning. Versus the one that two of Five-0's members currently found themselves in; where the nutcase just realized he had been backed into a metaphorical corner, was looking for a fast way out and didn't give a shit about the outcome of collateral damage.

While Danny was currently spitting out the correct turn-of-phrase for this specific situation his mind was a million miles away; or, more accurately, twenty one years in the past.

He recalled, clear as a bell, the summer of 1994. He, Mattie and their sisters had made a night of it when their parents had gone out of town for a weekend. And after bowling two dozen frames at _Tornado Alley_ and gorging on pizza at _Mia Cucina's_; the Williams kids wound up finding themselves in the front row of theater ten at the _Showplace Palace _watching the hit action movie of that year: _Speed*_.

Though he may have seen that movie thirty or forty times since, there was still one scene in particular that had always stuck out in his mind. In fact, it was the very same one that – eighteen year old – Danny had recalled thinking that the two cops portrayed in said scene were _absolutely bat-shit crazy_. That that was just Hollywood trying to get the average layperson inching towards the edge of their seat for some sort of cheap, invisible thrill to sell out box offices. For the reason that something like that would in no way, shape or form ever happen in real life _because…__**it **__**was**__** nuts**_:

_*******__Harry Temple:__ "Alright, pop quiz. Airport, gunman with a hostage. He's using her for cover. He's almost to a plane. You're one hundred feet away. What do you do?" _

_[_Jack doesn't respond_] _

_Harry Temple__**:**__ "Jack?" _

_Jack____Traven:__ "Shoot the hostage." _

_Harry Temple__**:**__ "What?" _

_Jack____Traven:__ "Take her out of the equation. Go for the good wound and he can't get to the plane with her. Clear shot." _

_Harry Temple__:__ "You're deeply nuts, you know that? 'Shoot the hostage'." __*******_

However, it was nine words in particular out of that decades old scenario that was currently running on an echoing loop in the blonde's head:

_"Shoot the hostage."_

"_You're deeply nuts, you know that?"_

"_Shoot the hostage."_

"_You're deeply nuts, you __**know**__ that?"_

"_Shoot the hostage."_

"_Shoot the hostage."_

"_You're deeply nuts…"_

"_**Shoot**__ the hostage."_

"_**You're deeply nuts…**__" _

"Yeah, well, spend enough time around Steve McGarrett and it's bound to happen sooner or later," Danny said—out loud.

This statement confused both Steve and the gunmen as no one had spoken for the last fifteen seconds; and no one had said anything that would solicit those particular words from the Detective's mouth.

In the second that followed, Danny readjusted his gun before firing. Several of the onlookers either screamed or began running away further for cover. Meanwhile, Steve let out a low grunt as his weight sunk towards the pavement. He immediately reached for the bleeding spot between his shin and his calf in an effort to stem the blood flow. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he pressed down firmly with his hand. The wound didn't so much as hurt as it burned like hell; but flesh wounds will do that to you.

The gunman stared down in confusion; he clearly had not expected the short statured cop to shoot his own partner.

"Put the gun down on the ground, get on your knees and put your hands on your head…Do it now!" Danny ordered.

That seemed to snap the gunman out of his shock and instead of complying he began to sort of run backwards; his eyes quickly scanning the area for either another hostage or quite possibly the nearest exit. And there was one; well many hostages, all huddled together in the nearest exit that led to the edge of the parking lot and a main road.

In the highest tense situations, wasn't the average layperson just so intelligent that way?

Not that Danny blamed them any. It wasn't anyone's fault that "keeping your cool in front of a gun" wasn't an offered course in the norm of standard education. Though, he did often wonder—in today's world— how much longer would that be?

The Detective advanced in the direction of the gunman, weapon still drawn and poised. "I'm going to put this into terms that _**even you**_ will understand," he told him as they continued their odd little version of _'follow the leader'_. But somehow, even as he spoke, Danny had that offbeat feeling that the gunman wasn't even listening to him. Especially since he had just raised his weapon and was intent on threating the group of huddled individuals by the exit with the possibility of spraying them full of bullets.

The calm and collected Detective, although, continued—as he walked— to speak anyway, because, well, it was just in his nature. "One armed gunman minus one hostage equals…?" he asked as the gunman's finger flexed on the trigger; nonetheless, blonde's trigger finger was faster—his hand managed a full muscle flex in his phalange…

'_**BANG!'**_

"…one clear shot," he said after the bullet erupted from the chamber of his side arm.

Several more onlookers screamed at the sound of the gunshot and perhaps more had run off at the sight of the lone gunman with his newly adorned third eye.

The well trained and highly experienced detective didn't even flinch at sound or sight. Weapon still drawn and held firmly in hand, Danny pulled the gunman's weapon from his slowly chilling hand with the toe of his shoe. And, perhaps as reflex, pressed two fingers beneath the man's jaw line. "…or suicide by cop," he said to...well, no one, he guessed.

Tucking the gunman's weapon into the back of his waist band; the blonde then took a minute to both calm and assess the crowd, before wondering back over to where his partner was still sitting on the ground. A woman was kneeling next to him cleaning and packing his flesh wound with supplies from a first aid kit.

Looking up at Danny, the woman didn't really seem all that uneasy at the fact that a gun was encased in his grip. All she said was, "I'm a former Corpsman* third class…"

Danny nodded—cellphone to his ear—, "Okay, perfect," he said, effectively cutting her off. The woman also didn't seem put off or offended by Danny's terse behavior, she just returned to the injured man's wound.

Danny had only called it in because it was protocol, but he knew that since the scene had been heavily witnessed back up, buses* and probably even the medical examiner had already been rolled. Even before the words had finished coming out of his mouth, Dispatch was informing him that, indeed, HPD and buses were already enroute.

"I also need an ME," Danny said into the phone's speaker.

"_Copy that, Detective Williams_, _we will notify Five-0's Medical Examiner,_" Dispatch replied just as HPD cruisers arrived on scene.

Danny cut the call and immediately instructed the surrounding officers to secure both the scene and the—remaining— crowd.

An officer involved shooting meant that –according to protocol— Danny had to hand his main service pistol over to CSRU for an hour or so, and collecting witness statements was going to be a bitch for two reasons. One there were _**so many**_ people and two, aside from the ones who actually filmed the scene, it was going to be a goddamn miracle if two of them matched up, never mind all of them.

While it is true police and prosecutors love a good ("human") eye witness, they also loathe them as well. And it is for the reasons they can be just as reliable as they are not. Not everyone who looks at the same thing sees the same thing. Also stories change, details are distorted and some people like to exaggerate while others are hell bent on protecting others by perjuring* themselves.

Oh, and would you look at that, the press just arrived.

It was truly shaping up to be a _**fucking**_ nightmare.

Hopefully, like most low profile shootings, it was just going to be a quick three to five minute blurb on the five, six, and eleven o'clock news; and the next day would be business as usual…for the daily public anyway.

For the police and the ME there would be paperwork to file and reconfirming statements and an autopsy. Not to forget to mention the trip to the hospital and the mend time for a certain Commander's injury.

Danny slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned his attention just as the Corpsman spoke again.

"Alright, Commander, that's the best I can do with this kit."

"No, you did great, thank you for the patch job, Corpsman," Steve said while holding his hand out— a slight hiss of pain hidden beneath his words. The woman nodded as she shook it.

"Great?" Danny said squatting down to inspect the Corpsman handiwork. "That is a twenty dollar first aid kit and this is a bullet wound on a lower extremity and it's not even leaking; I'd say you did _a hell of a job_, Corpsman."

"Thank you, Detective," she nodded once—a smiled playing on her lips at a job she knew she had done well. This time the Corpsman reached over to shake Danny's outstretched hand.

Suddenly a door slammed and a chuckling voice yelled out, "Williams, I had to get my ass down here and see this for myself. Am I hearing things correctly, _you __**shot**__ your own partner_? What the hell did McGarrett do to piss you off _this time_?" HPD Captain Kenta Makani wondered—his grin a mile wide.

Sergeant Duke Lukela was covering a smirk as both HPD officers strode over to the two members of Five-0. "Knowing the two of you, there has to be a good reason."

"Of course there is, Duke," Steve nodded from his spot on the pavement, but gave no further explanation—as apparently he had none. Instead looked directly at his partner, and waited for an answer, "Danny?"

"I wanted him to live," Danny answered simply and the corners of Steve's mouth upturned.

Duke quirked an eyebrow, smirk still firmly in place. "So you shot him?"

"Naturally," Danny gave a single bob of his head.

This time Steve blinked—the upturned corners of his mouth remaining— as he blew a chuckling breath out of his nostrils. "_Naturally_," he repeated.

"Oh, by the way," Danny said turning to face his partner, "I'm sorry that I shot you."

Captain Makani broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter; even more so as Steve made a face and shook his head unconvinced, "_No you're not_."

"_Yes I am_," the Detective insisted.

"Danny, you've wanted to shoot me since the day we first met."

"Well, yes, that is true, but _I am_ sorry that I shot you. Besides…rule number one, remember?"

"Actually rule number one is _'i__f you __get__ somebody shot, you apologize; you don't wait for a special occasion, like birthdays or friggin' President's Day'_…" the SEAL reminded.

"And I _just_ apologized to you and _**meant it**_," Danny's voice was beginning to take on an edge.

"But you didn't _**get**_ me shot, Danny. **You. Shot. Me**."

Captain Makani laughed louder as Duke crossed his arms and smirked; he knew what was coming.

"So you _**don't **__want_ an apology?" the blonde was confused.

"I'm not saying it's not a nice gesture; especially since you just purposely put a hole in my leg."

Danny opened and closed his mouth twice, before scrunching his brow and shrugging his hands, "Which I _**just **_did, so _**what the hell's**_ _the problem_?" he wondered, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"You're claiming rule number one," the brunette stated in a very matter of fact manner.

"_So?_"

"So I just explained rule number one, Danny; which I find kind of odd having to do so considering it was the rule that _**you**_ outlined in the first place after the whole Duran incident."

"Okay," the Detective said taking an exasperated breath, "I took a slug in the arm during the Duran incident—which you apologized for and I accepted it…"

"_No you didn't_," the wounded man interrupted.

"…_**what**_**?**"

"You _**didn't **__accept_ my apology. You said and I quote: _'Your apology is noted; …acceptance is pending'_."

"Pendency concluded, apology accepted; …_five years ago_," the blonde told him.

"So, what, now I'm a _mind reader_?" Steve asked him casually. The two stared at each other; the Navy man carrying a paused look, while the East Coast import had a floored expression. After about ten seconds a toothy grin broke out over the taller man's face, while the shorter man narrowed his eyes, but still allowed a smirk of his own. Yes, Danny understood now.

"No, you're a Neanderthal animal, pain in the ass, stupid SOB*, motherfucker; _**that's**_ _what you are_," Danny charged. And even though his tone was made to sound bad-tempered, one could easily hear the playful jest hiding right underneath. "What do you think, Corpsman, judging by his ego, would you agree?" he asked her, only to receive silence in return.

Both Danny and Steve blinked in surprise as they glanced around the surrounding area. As swiftly as the Corpsman had appeared, in the blink of an eye she was gone.

"Hey, where did she go?"

"I don't know," Steve answered. "Actually, I didn't even see where she came from in the first place. All of the sudden she was kneeling down next to me, cleaning and packing."

"Who?" Duke wondered.

"The Corpsman," Steve responded.

"I don't recall having an Officer Cormin," the Captain said, wracking his brain for the name.

"She's not a police officer, she's a Navy Corpsman," the sailor told him.

"_What the hell is a Navy Corpsman_?"

"She's basically like a concierge doctor for Military personnel on bases and on the battlefield," Danny explained. Steve shrugged his eyebrows at his partner's definition. It wouldn't have been the way he would have explained the job title, but it was a decent explanation in layman's terms.

"Why don't you give me a description and I'll see if I can locate her," Duke offered.

"Nah, it's okay, Duke," Steve waved him off. "To her, she did what she was trained to do and she moved on; it's as simple as that. Thanks anyway. …Besides, Danny probably scared her away waving his gun around."

Danny scoffed at that. "Yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that that woman who was trained to work miracles with gauze and tape beneath a hail of bullets was going to be the least bit bothered that I was holding a recently fired weapon."

"You mean the one you used to shoot me?"

"Oh, are you going to let this go?"

"I'm not sure, how long did the Duran thing take?" Steve teased.

Cradling his head with one hand and splaying five fingers with the other, "Five. Years. Ago," Danny said before taking a deep breath and scraping his fingers through his hair. "_**I**_ put a hole in your leg, so _**he**_ wouldn't put one in your head…_oh, and hey, what do you know_, it was _just like_ what Duran _tried_ to do to you…except you know, I put a hole in the back of _his head first_, _**instead**_ of the one _I really wanted_ to put in you for that little shit stunt."

"_Well damn, if that wasn't one slow bullet_, Danno." Steve had uttered the words with such conviction and seriousness, which Danny couldn't even believe his partner had just located his own funny bone—or that he even had one to begin with. Oh, well there was a first time for everything. He stared at the man for a few more seconds and then Steve smiled once more and it was Danny's turn to start laughing; Duke and Captain Makani way ahead of him.

"Come on," Danny held his hand out for Steve to grab; which he did. "I'll take you to the hospital so they can dig that round out of your leg, stitch you up and give you a nice tetanus shot… right in the ass, where you like it."

Duke smirked at the words and brought a hand to his forehead in preparation of what he knew was coming. Though the good sergeant understood Steve and Danny, he was well aware that many—especially among HPD—did not. And now it was about to come in the form of a very confused police Captain.

"Williams?"

"Hmm?" Danny turned his head to face Makani while he waited for Steve to adjust and steady his weight.

"How—_exactly_—do you know that McGarrett likes to get things, uh…where the sun don't shine, or perhaps maybe not often?"

Steve heard the tone of the Captain's voice and realized too late the potential underlying meaning Danny's words could also be mistaken for; _**and**_ that his usually very astute partner had yet to make the connection. He went to cut in, but Danny being Danny continued talking out of second nature.

"Eh, what can I say, Capt? We're a couple of weirdoes, he and I, and we've known each other long enough to discover and share some pretty special, deep, dark secrets about one another; right, Babe?"

From the corner of his eye, Steve caught Duke shaking his head and holding back his laughter. And, well, you know the old saying, in for a penny, in for a pound. So the sailor smiled politely and say, "That's right, Danno."

"Hopefully my aim is a good as I want it to be…" Danny continued talking as he helped his partner limp off to the Camaro. "…and you're pretty much a rock—especially that head of yours— so there should be little to no tissue and muscle damage. I know neither one of us will be happy if you have to be off your feet for too long, but don't worry partner, I've always got your six."

Just before he dropped his weight into the passenger seat of the car, Steve saw that Duke had walked farther away from Makani—back turned and shoulders shaking. Makani, on the other hand, was still staring with a semi-confused, half grin crossed look on his face, before shrugging his eyebrows and walking back towards his police cruiser.

"Danny?"

"Hmm?" he murmured out as he helped Steve ease his injured leg over the bottom frame of the car.

"…did you hear that?"

"What? Did I dislocate something? How? Steve, I'm barely touching you and I've seen you fall off the hood of a moving car and hardly do damage to yourself."

"No…"

"Don't tell me it's another damn shooter," Danny said scanning the area.

"No, no, buddy…"

"So what did you hear?"

"…never mind, I…I must have imagined it."

"You sure?"

"_One thousand percent_."

"Alright then; hospital time. Watch yourself," Danny said as he went to close the car door.

Steve chuckled quietly to himself as Danny made his way to the driver's side. Let HPD and all associated personnel say whatever the hell they wanted. It was a small price to pay for a partnership and a friendship like the one the two of them had.

And if nobody else understood that… too damn bad for them.

…

…_To Be Concluded…_

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Muse's Notes:**

**Asterisk Index:**

_***'Speed'**_**:** The 1994 hit action thriller of the summer. Here is what I know for certain about 'Speed', people either love it or they hate it. This is actually one of my favorite action thriller movies of the 1990's, despite the clichés and mistakes.

A couple others being Point Break (1991) and Chain Reaction (1996) [though the latter wasn't really an action thriller, it was more action drama] and each star Keanu Reeves— who is a cute hottie Hawaiian native; how's that for irony?

In case you couldn't tell, just like Max (Masi Oka), I too am a Keanu Reeves fan: )

Speed 2: Cruise Control (1997) = HATED IT!

***Bus(es):** Police slang used in reference to an (multiple) ambulance(s).

\- Depending on the location and the individual, the reference slang will vary. This following is only a short composed list, there are possibly more terms…

The following phrases could potentially be heard at an emergency/crime scene, "I need (a/an)… or Roll (a/an)… or Get me (a/an)…":

-Ambulance

-Ambo

-Bus

_Cart (Don't quote me on this one; I heard this only one time when I was on vacation and I cannot remember if I was stateside or not.)

-EMS/EMT's

-Paramedics/Medics

-Trauma Team

***P****erjuring (Perjury):** Also known as 'Foreswearing' or, to be put simply in layman's terms, 'Lying'.

For those of you who already knew and understood the meaning of the word perjury, please let me tell you how proud I am; very. For those of you who did not, you have learned something new today and you should be proud of yourselves, congratulations!

I do not mean to sound condescending to anyone; but I just cannot tell you how many times I have come across an individual who gives me a blank stare because they will not or cannot summon the courage to either ask what it means or be bothered to look it up. And then I need to stand there, deviate from the conversation, and give a ten minute vocabulary lesson because in explaining one word I'll accidently slip in another word they also do not understand.

However, "perjury" is not as cut and dry as the writers for television, movies and the occasional story want you to believe. Perhaps it is because they also do not know or understand this fact or it is easier to have a person "believe the lie", so to speak.

Perjury—the accusation and criminal proceedings, not the crime— is actually quite tricky, but then again so is lying; perhaps that is the reason for the name?

A person on the stand can actually state under oath that the sky is purple with tiger stripes and that grass is really called Rainbow Brite and have it be taken as truth _**so long as**_ the sky and the grass have _**absolutely **__**no**__** relevance**_ to the case and its outcomes. However, if the sky and the grass are relevant to the case and you have made the same statement under oath, then you will have committed perjury (have perjured yourself). Now, isn't that interesting?

***Corpsman [Pronounced 'Core-min']:** A United States Naval Medical Specialist who provides primary care for both the US Navy and Marine Corps.

***SOB:** An abbreviation standing in for the turn-of-phrase or insult _"Son of a Bitch"._

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

-It is with a light and open heart, along with a great deal of anticipation that you, my reader, enjoy my work, just as with all my writing, it really means a great deal to me.

-Reviews and/or constructive criticism are not required here, but are always welcome.

-Flames are not required nor are they welcome; and while I cannot stop you from posting them, I will warn you, I usually don't take them to heart.

Love, Hugs, and Kisses,

Muse : )


	3. Chapter III: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

ShakespeareIsMyMuse

**DISCLAIMER: I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do so solemnly swear that I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any of its affiliates, which includes: any familiar story plots, creation of original characters belonging to the show, cast and crew. Rights, property and ownership belong rightfully and wholly to CBS and its Original Creator: Leonard Freeman (1920-1974), also to reboot creators: Peter M. Lenkov, Alex Kurtzman, and Roberto Orci.**

**I, ShakespeareIsMyMuse, do however claim ownership of any unrecognizable characters and the formation of plot(s) that follows. Any invention or similarity of any character or plot line that is seen here after represented really or fictitiously, alive or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.**

*Exhales* I hope that about covers everything. *Cracks Neck* Now, on with the story.

**Enjoy.**

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Chapter III: Once Bitten, Twice Shy***

**TRIPLER ARMY HOSPITAL**

**EMERGENCY ROOM—SECTION: C**

**2:22 PM**

Danny poked his head around the curtain, "Hey."

"Hey," Steve answered back. He was comfortably laid out in an upright position on a hospital bed with two pillows behind his head, one underneath his wounded leg and his pant leg rolled to his knee.

"I did your paperwork while the Doc was stitching you up, so we should be able to get out of here that much sooner," Danny told him as he walked towards the hospital bed of the cordoned off area.

While he didn't look physically drained, Steve could see by the exhaustion in his eyes how Danny looked mentally sapped. Although, it wasn't uncommon for their therapy sessions to leave them both looking and feeling that way; but usually they found themselves there at day's end and usually after some pavement pounding criminal catch. It was bizarre for this to happen so early in the day.

Plus, while their therapist tried her hardest, both men knew that there were some things better left discussed with her offered tools in the privacy of one of their own homes. Though she claimed professionalism and confidentially, neither of them was willing to take the risk that she wouldn't go running to someone should they reveal too much. Sometimes, some things were better kept only between the hushed whispers of the ones who were trusted enough to never again reveal them to the light of day.

Things like why Steve was the way he was or why, though he loved it so, he hasn't played the guitar since he was fifteen; or the reasons why Danny is so passive aggressive—which apparently stemmed back way further than his divorce or why he's so protective, or occasionally _possessively_ protective.

But Danny knew and Steve knew.

And they both knew that it drove their therapist insane because she didn't know what they knew, they knew and that they were using her tools to work things out between them. She thought that the two of them still weren't communicating properly. And it was just hard, trying to figure out ways to get their message across without revealing what they wanted to stay just between the two of them. To make her understand that she _was_ helping them, but that she also had to back off at certain points and that they were okay.

However, now they both knew she wasn't going to be so sure, especially since the _irate_ one just shot the _irritating _one…deliberately.

"Cool, thanks. I guess it paid off making you my medical proxy, then?" the sailor wondered as he watched his partner drop the one side rail to the bed that was up.

"Looks like."

Gripping the side of the mattress, Steve slid himself closer to the edge leaving room for Danny to drop his weight into the space next to him. The blonde crossed his ankles to ensure he left enough room that he wouldn't accidently kick his partner's wounded area.

Steve pulled one of the pillows from behind his head and held it out to Danny. He accepted the pillow with a tired smile and a nod before pressing it down over his face and –muffled— groaning loudly into it.

"Are you okay?"

"I put a hole in _your leg_ and you're asking me if _I'm okay_?"

"It was a hard decision to make, Danno. I mean, I understand why you made it…and believe me, I am grateful; but I still understand that it was very difficult for you."

Danny pushed the pillow up over his face and tucked it behind his head. "I thought you insisted that I wanted to shoot you?"

"Oh, yeah, you did…but it was with a _very heavy_ heart."

The Detective chuckled and then sighed—heavily. "Mmmh, yeah.…I, uh, I thought I was going to lose you…too…for a second there."

And it was those words and the tone they were spoken in, that Steve realized that Danny needed to talk—to share and not in the typical everyday Danny fashion; but in the way their therapist wished they would do in her office— and often found themselves tap-dancing around in front of her.

"February twenty second, two thousand eleven."

It was a date that much Steve understood…at first, but Danny didn't elaborate more. Instead, he had gone very quiet, almost like he was earlier—with the gunman; he looked a million miles away.

The former Intelligence Officer focused hard and thought back. "That was exactly five months and two days from the day we first met," he said out loud—quietly. Almost as if he was trying to keep the walls from listening in. Then he thought some more, because, of course there had to have been more of a significance to that date, for Danny to bring it up now; over four years later. And now, Steve was grateful at that moment he was semi-lying down, because the memory hit him like a ton of bricks. "That was also the day after Matt came to town, the night he…" Steve didn't know _exactly how_ to finish that sentence without causing his partner anymore pain.

It had been just barely two months since he had been released from that ghastly Columbian prison because of what had transpired between Matt and Marco Reyes. Steve still hadn't even figured out how to tell Danny that the reason he was no longer getting his ass kicked in that hellhole was because of Doris. He still didn't know all of those details. That it had been _her_ who had scoured the entire country—quite possibly the globe— looking for (and finding) the hidden three tons of coke Reyes' promised the CIA, to trade for and secure his clean release; the one that enabled him to keep his job as a cop…a member of Five-0. For the reason that the murderous foreign drug dealer was some huge power player worth, not only protecting, but avenging; while the upstanding American cop who evened the score for the death of his equally American brother was to be used as a scapegoat.

Neither Steve nor Danny would ever argue against the fact that the death of Marco Reyes was vigilante justice plain and simple. And while two wrongs in _**no way**_ make a right; the way recent events played out had made it abundantly clear that this was the only way anyone was ever going to pay for the butchery of Matthew Williams. Because aside from, perhaps, his two sons and maybe his wife or girlfriend or whoever the mother of his children was to him; no one— not the CIA, not the Columbian government, not his friends, not even his own cartel crew –gave a flying fuck about Marco Reyes.

No, the CIA was far more concerned with keeping their own personal backdoor operations and cash flow issues away from the prying eyes and ears of the American public. So much so that they were willing to play an infamous trump card _'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'_ to keep themselves clean and dusted. To turn his partner over to a foreign government under the guise of international relations and obtaining justice for a cold blooded murder; when all they really cared about was getting their pound of flesh for removing part of their equation and losing their one point two billion dollar cash flow.

Though, in hindsight it really wasn't all that surprising. This was, after all, the very same CIA who really hated _Detective_ Danny Williams because he was a driven, nosy, loud mouth who didn't sit and stay on command. And because he _promised_ a scene of carnage throughout the agency should anything happen to the dark plane—containing his partner, and the homicidal motherfucker who had caused his partner's mother to fake her own death, destroying the McGarrett happy little family life and his partner's childhood, and sanctioned his partner's father assassination—that _**no one**_ was supposed to know even existed. Not to forget to mention that he also managed to escape their custody a time ago; granted he had inside help, but they were probably still dim on those details, too. They didn't even know about Matthew Williams' involvement with Reyes' cartel; or that he was in pieces inside an oil drum for Christ's sake.

At first glance, on the surface, Danny Williams was a police officer—a public servant, which meant that he was supposed to be a non-potential; just a typical, average American citizen. He wasn't even supposed to be a blip on the CIA's radar; yet, _somehow_, he had managed to piss them off more than once _**and**_—without even really meaning too—had done so in _titanic_ proportions.

"…left? …fled the country with a suitcase filled with five and a half million dollars in laundered drug money? …the very last night I ever saw my baby brother alive?" Danny filled the dead air. There was another beat of silence where neither of them spoke; which was strange only because it was a rarity that Danny Williams was ever quiet this long. But still, Steve waited patiently, just like Danny—how ever frustrating it was— did for him; the words would come when ready.

The blonde released a deep sigh. "…that was the same night you sent Kipton and Markowitz to the South Shore Marina…on the other side of the island…the night you tried to buy me time to get to him."

"I remember."

"You didn't have to do that; you had no reason to do it."

"I wanted to protect you, buddy…or at least I tried to."

There was another long stretch of silence before the detective said, "…I made it…before he left."

"I know," the sailor nodded against his pillow.

"How?" he whispered.

"You looked like you felt guilty…for so many reasons," Steve said softly.

"I held him at gunpoint…I held my brother at gunpoint. …I had my gun on him and my finger on the trigger. I was _so mad_ at him, _I wanted to shoot him_. _I wanted to drag him back_ and _make him face _what he had done…_I wanted to do it __**with **__him_, _I wanted to help_ him; but… But you didn't see the look in his eyes, Steve, he was _**so**_ scared. He felt trapped and _I couldn't do anything_ about it except turn him over and try to soften the blow."

Danny took in a deep, shaky breath and for a second Steve thought he was going to start crying…; but he didn't, he was able to hold it together. Especially after Steve put a comforting hand on his arm, the very same one Danny reached over and squeezed for –what the SEAL thought was –dear life.

"He asked me if I was going to shoot him and I told him that I should because he was being a stupid SOB. …He just stood there, in front of the steps to that plane and said to me, _'either you shoot me, big brother, or you say goodbye'_…and I stood there _**like an idiot**_…with my gun drawn and my finger on the trigger…and I did _**absolutely nothing**_ while he walked onto that plane and flew out of my life. …Well, actually no, I _didn't_ _**not **__do anything_…"

Steve closed his eyes and steeled himself for the words he knew were coming.

"…_**I signed**_ _his death warrant_," Danny said sullenly, "that's what _**I **_did."

The brunette opened his mouth to speak, but his partner finally seemed to find his tongue.

"I hesitated, like a rookie…because he was family…and that was wrong. In the Academy—and I'm sure in the Navy, too, they teach you that hesitation has it consequences?" He looked over at his partner.

The sailor nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I learned the hard way, huh? If I had shot Mattie when I had the chance and dragged his ass back to HQ and went ten rounds with the FBI for him… then I wouldn't have had to watch my mother drape herself over his coffin and sob herself into dehydration."

Steve licked his lips and turned his head to stare at the curtained partition opposite him. He felt his eyes starting to grow warm, which meant that if he didn't swallow the lump in his throat it was only going to be followed by a moist feeling surrounding his lower lids. He turned his hand over in Danny's and gripped it back; he could feel his partner struggling to think about what he wanted to say, to say it, hell, almost even to breath.

"But, uh, I…_I couldn't do it_…_not again_. I couldn't do _another_ funeral…lose _another _brother. You didn't survive four tours in the Middle East to come back home, find your father's killer and then basically die the same way. _I couldn't let that happen, too_. …I couldn't save your father, either, Babe, and _I am sorry_ about that also; because, believe me, I _wanted_ to save him, _I really did_, but…I was _two minutes_ _too late_."

With his free hand, Steve pressed his thumb to his lips as he shut his eyes tight; he knew where Danny was headed. He knew the man was wracked with guilt over John and Mattie and, yes, even Marco Reyes and would probably be for the rest of his days. He would most likely never forgive himself and that was the worst prison sentence of all—because like death, it was permanent.

"_I couldn't_ save your dad and _I couldn't_ save Mattie, but _I could_ save you; so I shot you. And I am sorry for shooting you, Steve, _I really am_, but I only did it so I wouldn't lose you, too."

"I know. And maybe this isn't the first time that this has been said, but it's the first time I know I've ever said it; thank you for shooting me, Danno, I really do appreciate it. Your, uh, apology has been noted and acceptance is immediate. I forgive you…forty five minutes ago."

Danny chortled. "Thanks, Babe."

"So do we agree or disagree that an incident like this is covered by rule number one? Or does it come with an asterisk now?" Steve wondered, but all Danny did was smile, nod and say, "Yes."

A smile playing on his lips, Steve furrowed his brow, "Wh…?"

It was at that exact moment that Chin's head was poking around the curtain. "Aw, don't you two look all comfy cozy?" He said playfully. "Found them."

Suddenly the curtain was yanked back with one swift tug. "_What the hell is this_?" Lou demanded before switching gears, "Forget it, Kono, we can't find him at anywhere there because he's right over here," he called off screen. Less than three seconds later had Kono appearing underneath Lou's arm still attached to the curtain. The second that followed had her laughing—Steve and Danny quickly dislodging their hands—, and looking over at Chin who was biting back a smirk.

"You know, with the way the Governor was going on about _warring with IA_ and _not_ having the luxury of employing anyone on his Task Force without a mug shot, we thought you were in a holding cell at one of the precincts somewhere," Lou said pointing at Danny. "Instead, here you are in bed with McGarrett."

At that comment Steve threw his head back against his pillow, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Interlocking his fingers and tucking his hands behind his head, "Aww, concerned for his virtue, Lou? Don't worry I'll buy him dinner later," Danny joked—his smile broad.

It was Kono's turn now. "Oh, so you're _that _kind of guy, Danny? You like that, Boss?" she wondered, but the only response she received was both an eyebrow and shoulder shrug from Steve. "Geez, at least with the guys I usually go with, dinner, at _the very minimum_ comes first," she smiled teasingly.

"Says the woman with the multi-millionaire boy toy?" Lou asked oratorically. Though she scoffed, Kono still had a small smile on her lips.

"Well, now, Kono," Chin said, in an attempt to keep the peace, "you do have to remember that there's a huge difference between you and Steve. Steve's such a high risk date that he's got to earn it first."

The sailor shot the island native lieutenant a dirty look, but had trouble holding it long enough for anyone to take him seriously. Instead the five of them started laughing.

"Well it looks like this subdivision is in good spirits," a male floor nurse stated, entering the room. "How are you feeling, Commander?"

"I'm fine."

"Alright, that's good news," the nurse nodded. "I'm sure you're familiar with how to care for stitches and a bullet wound so I'll keep this brief. They're melt away stitches so there will be no need to come back and have them removed; they'll dissipate as you heal. Keep your stitches, your wound and your dressing as clean and dry as you can. If it should get wet for any reason, make certain that you disinfect with an antiseptic, dry thoroughly and re-dress as soon as possible, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Steve nodded.

Next the nurse held up a small golden bottle, "This is a mild antibiotic to prevent infection. Your doctor seems _very familiar_ with you and took the liberty of having the prescription filled at our on-site pharmacy. She wants you to finish the _entire _bottle. Not take one or three and call it done, Commander, _the entire bottle_; that's _fifteen _pills."

Though he kept his face as polite as possible, Steve still made something akin to a semi-sour face while his colleagues started laughing.

Danny held out his hand, "I'll make sure he takes them. I'll crush them into his food if I have to."

"Dr. Hopi was counting on that," the nurse said handing the bottle off to the blonde. "Two today and one every day with a _substantial_ meal until finished." The brunette absentmindedly crossed his arms and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like _'I'm not a child, for crying out loud'_.

"Of course you're not," the nurse patted the SEAL on the shoulder and smirked when he receive semi-glare, but didn't seem the least bit afraid of the large man. "Ibuprofen for the pain."

Those four words netted a laugh from McGarrett's colleagues.

The still grinning nurse, quirked an eyebrow, "If you deem it necessary," he told him as he pulled an alcohol swab and a syringe from his pocket. "Okay, you just need a tetanus shot* and then you're free to go."

"Oh, I've already had one," Steve told him.

"When?"

"About three years ago," Danny answered for him.

Double checking the chart at hand, the nurse smiled once more, "Wow, you keep track of your partner's medical history _that_ well?"

"When you partner with Steve McGarrett it kind of comes with the territory."

This time the nurse laughed. "Well, it's fine; you can have another one, Commander. You can die from tetanus*; you can't die from a booster shot."

"You can die from a bullet."

"Yeah, about that, that was one hell of a shot, Detective; it was so perfect that you caused absolutely no damage other than breaking the skin," he congratulated.

Steve whacked Danny on the thigh, "See and you're always getting so pissed off at me for making you practice your shooting."

"When do you…?" the blonde started to say, but then dropped off for a second as he thought. "Are you talking about when you go charging in somewhere like _a red ragged bull_—_with only me as back up_— and people start _shooting_ at us?"

He was answered with a serious, but causal, "Yeah."

"That's _not_ practice, Steve, _that's_ survival!"

"For there to be means of survival there first has to be a perceived danger, Danno."

"Perceived danger? Are you listening to yourself…no wait, have you _met yourself_? Some days _you are_ the biggest, walking, talking, living, breathing perceived threat on this God damn island."

"Me? Did you suffer sudden amnesia? Or did you forget about the terrorists who tried to make a bioweapon out that highly aggressive strain of the bird flu? Or what about the smallpox case you guys had? Or what about the drone incident? Or..." Steve kept listing dangers that were way worse than him…

"Are they _always_ like this?" the nurse asked the other members of Five-0.

"_All _the time," Kono answered.

"_Every_ day," Lou told him.

"Since the very first_ second _they met," Chin said.

… "_**Or**_ what about earlier? _I wasn't_ threatening to spray a mall worth of people full of bullets."

"Yes, I know which is why I chose to save _you_ and not him!" Danny raised his voice enough to try and drown Steve out a bit. "And I said _**some days**_, _Steven_, _**some**_, _**not all**_! When our case load is slow and everyone else, _but you_, has done all of our paperwork;" Steve rolled his eyes at that, but he was promptly ignored, "you tend to get a little _restless_ if there isn't _someone_ _to_ _chase _or_ interrogate _or_ hit_…_**or shoot**_; and then the next thing I know we have _another_ French fried poodle incident on the beach, a smoking speed boat and a grand worth of damaged music equipment." Before he was even finished getting the words out, Danny was already breaking out into hysterics.

And then Steve joined in. "As...as horrible as that was…th…that dog should have n…never been on that beach," he said through his laughter.

"It's _not_ funny, Babe," the Detective whacked him on the shoulder—but it did nothing to subside his laughter. "The poor thing only grew hair back in _**three**_places."

"I know I saw the owner walking her a few weeks back; I've never actually seen a French poodle with an actual _Parisian_ wardrobe."

After he finished giving Steve his tetanus shot, the nurse turned back to the other three individuals in the room for an answer, "_What_ happened?"

However, they all looked lost.

"I'm not sure," Kono said, wracking her brain. "I must have been...I don't know where."

Lou shrugged. "Must have been before my time."

"Maybe I was on my honeymoon? Or something, because I don't remember anything about a smoking boat or how a poodle ended up hairless on a beach." Chin was shaking his head as he let out a quiet snicker at the fits of laughter of the two men in the hospital bed.

The floor nurse was in a cheerful mood. It was uncommon for any section of the ER, let alone most of the hospital to be filled with this much of a good time. As much as he would have enjoyed spending more time listening to what sounded like some pretty outrageous tales—he had rounds to do and other patients to tend to; so when he finally found a lull in the hilarity, he took the opportunity to wedge his way in.

"Commander, Detective Williams has already taken care of the rest of your paperwork, so now I'll just need one of you to sign your discharge papers," he told them—holding out the clip board, which Steve took and quickly scrawled his signature across the line at the bottom.

"Perfect, thank you; an Orderly will come by in a few minutes with a wheelchair and escort you out. Good day gentlemen… ma'am," he nodded on his way out.

"So, what happened?" Chin asked.

"With the poodle? Well, it all started when Steve…"

"_**No**_," Lou waved him off, much to Kono's disappointment. She actually looked like she wanted Danny to finish that story. "_Why the hell did you shoot him_?"

"Oh," Steve mumbled and then shrugged, "he didn't want me to die."

Lou blinked and stared at the pair, who simply stared back; meanwhile Chin and Kono were busy holding in their newly resurfaced laughter.

"Okay," the Chicago native nodded. "I know that you two—and how ever it is that brain wave signal you share works— _think_ you are explaining things, but _I think_ we're all going to need _a little bit more_."

"We finished our session, went to get lunch and ran into a lunatic with a gun who was—for some reason—hell bent on using the spray and pray method to kill innocent civilians. He probably had second thoughts after he started firing his automatic weapon, because then he suddenly started discharging it into the air and went looking for a quick way out. When he couldn't find one—because all of the people were either huddling around or escaping through the exits—he somehow managed to snare Steve in some sort of weird double armed version of a hammerlock, put a gun to his head and tried to both leverage him for an escape route and use him as a human shield," Danny explained more thoroughly.

"Wait a second, how does some random nutcase off the street hold firm to a fully trained SEAL?" Kono wondered, before teasing, "Have you talents been exaggerated boss?"

"Trust me, it _**wasn't**_ my finest hour. I don't know what that guy was on— steroids maybe? — but no matter which way I moved; I couldn't get out of it, he was too strong. It was, at the very least, highly embarrassing," Steve admitted.

"Hm," Chin nodded. "If he was that dangerous and not easily controlled by even someone with your training, Steve, then perhaps it was best that Danny did what he did and then put him down. God only knows what would have happened had he managed to trap someone else in a grappling hold—he might have accidently killed them in their attempts to get away, and then we'd have two dead bodies or who knows how many more."

Danny sighed, "Yeah."

There was, yet another, long beat of silence, when the sailor suddenly furrowed his brow and asked, "Did you say Denning was running interference with IA?"

"It doesn't exactly sound good; a cop purposely shooting his partner while on duty?—even if it was for a good reason. I mean, when we first heard the news, it sounded a lot like Danny had snapped; what do you think IA is going to think? You know how the details are slow to come in and then they always get everything all mixed up; chasing their tails looking for something that's not even there?" Chin reminded.

The Chicago transplant and lady island native shared a look at the expression that was forming on the Jersey import's face.

"I hate to say it, Danny, but I think you're just going to have to grin and bear it, brah," Kono told him. "Besides this one should be easy, even for IA. It happened in the middle of the day, in the middle of a crowded strip mall, with at least a hundred people recording and probably uploading to YouTube; plus security cameras. If IA is really that ass backward that they can't find the way out of this paper bag, then _we're all_ in a lot of trouble."

"Yeah and you just have to remember, brother, that half of them aren't even cops anyway—just administrative filled positions because they have expensive pieces of paper citing managerial and psychology backgrounds— and the rest are half-wits and brownnosers who couldn't hack it as real cops," Lou added.

Steve looked over at his partner and the two of the shared a look; one that said a storm was coming.

"Oh, no," Danny groaned as he pulled the pillow back over his head.

"Yeah," the SEAL said slowly—nodding, before looking at Lou, "trust us; this might get worse before it gets better."

Danny's voice had a thick, grating edge to it, "_**That woman**__ is going to come flying down here like a bat out of hell_."

"Wait a minute, you don't mean…?" Kono asked, her eyes going wide as if she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh!" Chin exclaimed, as if he, too, just suddenly remembered something. "Right, I had Coughlin on my ass and you have…yep, _that woman_ does indeed have a very big problem with the two of you. Although, probably more so Danny." Chin agreed.

"Especially because she didn't get her way last time; Jameson made sure of that, but she's not around anymore, and I'm betting that rabid dog is going to want to make bones about it this time." Danny's muffled voice came from beneath the pillow.

Steve shook his head and pulled the pillow off of his partner's face. "She can't, Kono's right. Your side is backed up with witnesses, Smart-Phone videos, security footage and my corroboration."

"_My side_? Versus, what _the dead guy_? The one who's head I put a hole in? ..Uh uh, Babe, I wouldn't put it past her to try—no matter which way she has to bend this story."

"Don't worry about it, buddy. You got my back and I've got yours. She wants a fight; we'll both come out swinging."

"Steve, as annoying as she is, you know we can't hit her."

"But it's so tempting, isn't it? In a couple of different ways."

Danny chuckled. "No argument there, but I will never purposely hit a woman under any circumstance with the exception of self-defense and even then, unless she was trying to kill me, I'd try and find another way of subduing her."

"_What a gentleman_," Kono kidded. "I'm sure little Miss IAB* already knows that."

"I think we're going be okay, Danno."

"I'm going to agree with Steve on this one, brah," Chin nodded. "Besides Denning's getting out in front of this. Makani called and told him what happened. He knows why you did it and that you would never hurt Steve."

"Unless that's what he really wants to believe because he knows that the majority of HPD is nervous to partner up with him. And he knows that Steve and Lou got off to a rough start and that Chin and I get along well together; so he needs to keep you around because he doesn't want a renegade Navy SEAL running around the island alone and unsupervised."

Chin laughed. "So, what? Protect the loud mouth cop hailing from the mean streets of New Jersey to wrangle the out of control SEAL at all costs, then?"

"Oh, well aren't you two just hilarious?" Steve said sourly, while Danny insisted to her that, "Excuse me, comic relief is kamaʻāina's territory."

"Oh! Look at you!"

"_Shut up_, Steven," Danny snapped—although he didn't really mean it.

Ignoring the blonde and switching thought trains, "Well, this could go a couple of different ways; she's either charmed by or afraid of Denning….or…" Steve left the sentence hanging.

"Or?" Kono prompted.

"_Or_ she walks her seven inch high heels all over his back," Danny finished for her.

"The Governor doesn't seem like the type of man to allow that to happen to him," Lou offered.

The four original members of Five-0 laughed.

Curious, "What am I missing?" Lou asked.

"Oh, don't worry, Lou, when you see this beautiful raven haired, five foot, little priss of a thing— with this deep, powerfully sharp look in her eyes, her nose high in the air; draped in haute couture, wearing seven inch _red bottom_ stilettos and foaming—kind of sexily— at the mouth, you'll understand," Danny told him.

"She's _that _attractive? I thought none of you liked this woman." Lou was so confused. "Wait a sec; IA is a basically a public servant position, how does she afford…?"

"She comes from _very old_ money; her family owns some of the biggest Avocado and Macadamia nut farms across the islands," Chin explained.

"She just_**enjoys**_ being a bitch and making other peoples' lives _as miserable as possible_; all of us are pretty sure it's her favorite pastime," Kono added. "And for the record, I'm not much of a fan," then crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "…_**but**_, _even __**I **__wouldn't_ kick her out of bed."

Chin turned his head and stared at his cousin. He too, thought the woman was attractive—an annoying, hard ass, yes; but definitely easy on the eyes. However, he had never imagined his baby cousin would utter something of the sort…that was the real surprise; but, hey, _she was_ _an adult_.

Danny and Steve smirked—mischievously, while Lou's eyebrows shot to the top of his head, "_Really_?" He was interested now, even if he, too, ended up not liking her. Which he was pretty sure he wasn't going to; like her personality, that is.

Looking at Steve, "If memory serves, didn't you tell her that you wanted her to get off of _your_ island?" Chin asked.

"I _may_ have been running a bit of a temper at that moment," the sailor admitted.

"And, yet here you two are _salivating_ over the thought that you might see her again?"

Danny nodded—a slight grin gracing his features. "We said she was a bitch who _doesn't like_ Steve _at all_ and who _really, really, __**really**_ hates me, Lou; _no one_ ever said she _**wasn't**_ hot."

"So you go for _that type_?"

Steve smiled and nodded, "Oh, that's right, you've never met his ex-wife. Who knew someone who looked and acted so sweet and polite could have _such a mouth_ on her?"

Danny furrowed his brow, he knew exactly what his partner was talking about, but what he didn't know was, "When did Rachel curse _you _out?"

"About a week after the hearing, when she _**finally**_ came back from house hunting in Las Vegas; she blamed me, and what I said to the judge about you, for getting the custody order flipped and Gracie getting to stay with you full time."

"Commander McGarrett, I hear you've gotten your walking papers," an Orderly said, pushing a wheel chair—then looked down at said chair, "…so to speak."

The Commander chuckled as he moved his weight from the bed into the chair, "Yes, thank you."

"I got him," The Detective said—in a blink he was at his partner's side.

"Oh, please be my guest," the Orderly said. "In fact, I'll thank you for it; my shoulder is still sore."

Chin, Kono and Lou all shared the same confused look. Danny had just been stretched out on the bed next to Steve, how in the hell was he suddenly right there next to the Orderly taking control of the wheelchair…and no one saw him move?

"I'm sorry, what happened?"

"We just had a fellow brought in for surgery to remove a small tumor pressing down in his brain. It's causing him to suffer from severe psychosis; which is leaving him with the impression that the people around him are trying to kill him. Apparently his meds wore off and it took half a dozen bodies just to be able to get the nurse close enough to sedate him," the Orderly explained as the three made their way down the hall.

Lou looked at the cousins, "How…?"

"Steve's pretty talented in his own right…" Chin said looking at Kono who was smiling. "…and the two of them do spend an awful lot of time together."

"…they'll both deny it to their dying days; but there are times when Danny starts acting just like Steve and vice versa, so Chin and I came to the decision _a long time ago_ to just go with the theory of osmosis*."

"Uh huh," Lou mumbled.

…

"Commander, Detective, I was wondering if you two could clear something up for me?" the Orderly asked.

"What's that?"

"There's a rumor going around that you," he pointed at Danny, "shot you," he pointed at Steve, "…on purpose."

Steve looked up and smiled, while Danny caught his eye and chuckled, "_Accidentally on purpose*_," they said.

"Hm, you know something? Knowing the two of you, that seems to make perfect sense."

"So in other words crazy, chatty, annoying and super ninja stealth are catching?" Lou whispered as he and the cousins trailed behind the trio.

Chin slung an arm around Lou's shoulders, "Worried you're not going to fit in at Five-0?"

Catching the Captain's eye and smiling, "I think he's more worried that he might, cuz," Kono supposed.

… H50

At the corner traffic light, Danny was the one to break the silence. "We never made it to lunch; do you want to knock off early and go get dinner…maybe a pitcher of margaritas?" He wondered.

"Panic, chaos, disorder, changing the balance of power in the middle of a crowded downtown shopping mall with only one fatality and one injury—none of them civilian? Yeah, I'd say our work for the day is done. Besides I have a full clip, a back-up, your SIG's still got fourteen shots, your revolver holds six, we got a box of ammo in the trunk; Tripler's open twenty four seven and I've got some other areas on my body you could hit where I can survive a bullet or two."

"So what you're saying is we should have enough rounds to get us through dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan. …What about Gracie?"

"She and Nina are having a sleep over at Lucy's house."

"Cool. So we'll have plenty of time for another run to the hospital if necessary," Steve joked.

"Uh, let's do our best to avoid it, Babe," Danny patted the man on the shoulder, "I still hate the place, you know? …and what did I say, huh? Comic relief is my territory, _okay_?"

"Okay," Steve agreed—laughingly. "Danno?"

"Hm?"

"I love you, brother."

Danny was quiet for a minute, but then a small smile bent his lips. "I love you too brother…I love you too." He held his fist out and Steve promptly bumped it with his own.

… H50

Yes, life is the hardest of all lessons to learn and once you're bitten, you'll forever be twice shy.

…

…Fín…

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

**Asterisk Index: **

***Once Bitten, Twice Shy:** Refers to someone who has either been hurt or has had something go wrong in the past, and therefore will heed far more caution in future situations.

******* Tetanus (Lockjaw)****: **A bacterial infection that causes severe muscle spasms by producing toxins which can enter through a break/cut/puncture of the skin by a potentially contaminated object. Though the tetanus bacteria is commonly found in soil, dust and manure, it is also largely associated with rust (i.e. getting caught or stepping on a rusty nail); and occurs most frequently in hot, wet climates where organic matter is abundant in the soil. Tetanus is also a huge danger if you have been stung multiple times (i.e. more than three in a row) by wasps (yellow jackets) or from swimming/playing in contaminated water sources (i.e. the infamous joke about the Henry Hudson River in New York City; and of course my favorite line from the movie _'_National Treasure' (2004): _"Sir, it's the Hudson, nothing's visible"_).

While tetanus cannot be spread through person to person contact is it still both a dangerous and terrifying disease**.** The bacteria can sit dormant in the body for anywhere from three to twenty one days; and up to eight days to several months in some cases. Once the bacteria chooses to make itself known, muscle spasms typically begin in the jaw causing it to lock tight— preventing the person from opening their mouth; this soon progresses to the rest of the body. The spasms usually last a few minutes and will occur frequently—without warning— over about a month's time; eventually becoming so severe that possible bone fractures or breakage may occur. Only ten percent of those infected with tetanus will result in fatality (death); usually after a period of four days.

—Symptoms **may** include the following: Fever, headache, difficulty swallowing, high blood pressure (HBP) and rapid heart rate.

**If there is even _**the most remote chance**_ that you think you may have contacted tetanus, seek immediate medical attention from reputable health care professionals. **

***Tetanus Shot: **An inoculation given as a preventative measure against the disease. It is typically given as part of the assortment of immunizations after the birth of a child starting at the first six week check-up. The first time vaccine is broken up into three separate (smaller) doses similar to the Hepatitis C vaccine. While the vaccine can be received at _any_ time in life, it is recommended that you receive a booster shot at least every eight to ten years; or if you cannot remember when your last shot (if ever) was administered.

***IAB:** Internal Affairs Bureau—A division of law enforcement that investigates incidents and plausible suspicions of law-breaking and professional misconduct attributed to officers on the force. IAB tends to have a bad rap among law-enforcement agencies and is sometimes referred to by the moniker "_the rat squad"_ by other non IAB personnel.

******* Osmosis:** The definition makes reference to two separate definitions; the former and not the latter referring to this story:

**\- [General]:** An effortless (often unconscious) ability of learning and understanding.

**\- [Biology]:** The movement of a solvent (liquid)—usually water— through a semi-permeable (soft, sponge like) membrane (casing/outer wall) into a solution (liquid mixture) of higher concentration (higher amount) that creates an equal concentration (amount) of the solute (dissolvable substance) on both sides of the membrane (casing/outer wall).

***Accidentally on Purpose:**An intentional act performed under the pretense of an accident.

**Muse's Notes:**

To My Readers,

For any confusion that may have been caused by the conclusion to Rule Number One, I apologize. I would also like to point out that while it was intended to—and can—be a standalone story, it can also be considered a sequel of sorts to _"IA: Internal Affairs"._ For anyone who has read it and remembers it, then you already know whom Five-0 was referring to. For those who have not read it; this was an earlier story that I wrote (in fact, the very first one for this account) and the "she" that most of Five-0 is referring to, was an unpleasant –not fully fleshed out—character from that story.

Now, while I will make **no promises**; this story does have the potential to possibility to spawn a sequel of its own. Should it come to fruition I do have an idea or two about how to breathe more life into this would be _'villain' _and some dialogue that could possibly take place between certain characters. 

**H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50 H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50**

-It is with a light and open heart, along with a great deal of anticipation that you, my reader, enjoy my work, just as with all my writing, it really means a great deal to me.

-Reviews and/or constructive criticism are not required here, but are always welcome.

-Flames are not required nor are they welcome; and while I cannot stop you from posting them, I will warn you, I usually don't take them to heart.

Love, Hugs, and Kisses,

Muse : )


End file.
